


Under the Mistletoe

by TheRaptorOFire



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward Cullen is best Cullen, F/M, Kisses, Mistletoe, bit of Dorian in there too, holiday theme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 11:00:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5372849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRaptorOFire/pseuds/TheRaptorOFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commander Cullen is fairly familiar with the tradition that seems to have the Inquisitor all giddy and running around during the early part of Winter. One part of the holiday he dreads is that one plant with the red berries, but this year perhaps there would be a reason to tolerate it just once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Mistletoe

Snow was not unusual at Skyhold, especially during the deepest part of winter. Ferelden winters were always harsher than the other parts of Thedas. This was the time of the year where a light breeze meant you would be shivering from your head to your toes for hours even in front of a fire. Cullen knew this more than any of them, being Ferelden himself and familiar with the weather patterns.

 _Let them laugh about the fur cloak now_. He huffed to himself.

But there was  _something_  that griped at him like nothing in the world; the Inquisitors enthusiasm towards the season.

Amelia was running herself ragged setting up candles and decorations. He nearly had a heart attack when he caught her climbing,  _climbing!_  up the forsaken wall leading to the battlements to hang up some festive wreaths.

Or when she saw the snow start to fall. Cullen remembers what winters up in Kirkwall were like; it snowed maybe a few days the entire season, so it was no surprise the warrior acted like a giggly young girl.

He would admit there was a grace to her movements he always did love to watch. Her footing was sure and precise as she scaled the wall. Or on the ground, it was like she glided over it. Or the joy she would feel when she would jump into a huge pile of snow.

Always found himself smiling from it.

The tradition was one he was familiar with, one his family participated in till he left for Templar training. Trees decorated, lights around the house, sweaters his mother spent all year making for them to wear, even the old family Mabari got one. Having it snow just around this time of the year made the ever grumpy Commander grin from ear to ear. The servants running around assisting the Inquisitor and Josephine in making Skyhold presentable for nobles and others alike, though this particular tradition the Orlesians that would visit didn’t celebrate the way it seemed Fereldens and Free Marchers did.

There was one tradition he could do without though:

 _The Mistletoe_.

Oh how he  _hated_  that bloody plant.

His mother would hang them around the house at points where she  _knew_  people would have to walk, and him,  _always him_ , ended up having to kiss his sisters on the cheek.

He hated it then, he hated it when he was a Templar, and he  _definitely_ hated it now. Everyone and their mother wanted to get a kiss from him. Damn nobles and their stupid giddiness over him. Maker could he ever get more than 5 minutes to do his work? This nonsense was getting to him.

First a young lady from the kitchens, she wasn’t bad, sweet even. Shy and giggly after. But then another, and another. For Andraste’s sake, he even ended up having to give Cassandra a kiss when he went to meet her near the blacksmith.

Though he swears the Seeker blushed.

He found Amelia one day in his office, using his desk and a small stepping stone to reach above to hang some stuff up on that ridiculous owl statute. The same one he begged the Ambassador to get rid of. Cullen watched, praising the maker  _Thank goodness that’s a sturdy desk._ Once she finished messing around she jumped off with a small thud and smiled warmly at him.

“Tis’ the season, no? Commander?”

He smiled back, agreeing before she slipped through the side door.

And let out a ragged breath he didn’t notice he’d been holding in, his heart beating widely every time. There has to be a light above him showing his infatuation with the Inquisitor. Any man would be, it was fact by all the marriage proposals. 

Amelia after all was strong, kind, could throw one hell of a punch (his nose remembers all too well), and she was  _beautiful_.

He peaked out the door for a glimpse, and there she was, playing with a small pile of snow on the ledge. Her fire red hair moving with the light breeze that graced Skyhold this day even trapped in the ponytail it was in. Her cheeks and nose a light pink no doubt from the cold, and those lips. He always wondered if they were light or dark under the crimson red of lipstick. If they were soft or chapped.

Cullen watched as she opened the door at the other end and Dorian popping up. He watched the mage point up at the stupid plant and Amelia giggle; oh that laugh it was sweeter than a song birds. He watched as Dorian leaned down enough for Amelia to give him a like peck on the cheek…

The door creaked under his hand. Not of jealousy,  _but an idea_.

He hated that tradition, but he would endure it if it meant even a light kiss on the cheek from her.

So he made note of where they were, getting caught under a few he didn’t take note of and internally screaming every time a member of the inner circle appeared under it.

A kiss on the cheek was good enough.

At the end of the day he forgot all about his plans. Wanted nothing more than the day to be finished and the meeting over with. Cullen was walking up to the war council when he noticed a wiggling behind facing him –  _Maker’s breath_!

He must have said it out loud because Amelia turned on a dime, the papers she had just picked up off the floor fluttering back down.

“Maker I’m so sorry Commander! I tripped on something and everything went plop, ya’ know?”

He nodded quickly, using the fur to hide his blush.

“I’m surprised to see you here, the meeting is not for some time.” She pointed out.

“I always come early, have stuff to check beforehand.” Cullen admitted, something- no it sounded like a voice telling him to look up. And the Maker was smiling down upon him.

He cleared his throat, pointed up to the green plant giving Amelia a sheepish, lopsided smile. And she giggled. The same one she gave Dorian some time earlier. She stepped closer, innocently folding her hands behind her back and leaned forward as Cullen turned to give her clear view of his cheek (and prayed she didn’t see the flush of red creeping up his neck.)

“Hey Commander!” He heard, and a cheeky whistle to follow. He turned to the noise ready to reprimand whoever it was. Only by doing that Cullen turned into Amelia’s lips, and by the heavens she was soft!

Cullen had dreamed about this, stared off into space at the image of him holding her close and kissing her passionately. After that dance months ago it was all he could think about. About this. Shame filled dreams were nothing compared to this. The smell of honey and lavender wavered through him, fluttering his eyes closed in a vain attempt to make the scents stronger. He could taste the spiced wine she'd must have had before this and it tasted like a warm summers sun. _She was the sun._ Warm, bright... Oh he wished this feeling would never ever end.

He made no motion to move, yet he should have. But… But she made no move either and did she – did she just sigh?

Suddenly she pulled back, clearing her throat a few times in shock, surprise, Cullen wasn’t sure. He stood there like an idiot before his eyes opened.  _He forgot he closed them!_

Yes. She did sigh. And she was smiling, and if he wasn't as close as he was he wouldn't have heard her whisper _"Wow."_

Amelia tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, shifting her weight between her feet. Eyes looking everywhere but at him.

“That… that was really nice, Cullen.” She murmured quietly, rubbing her arm. A tick he's caught on when the shy bashful side of her managed to rear it's head. A sight that was more rare than a golden halla or a friendly Orlesian. 

“I, well, you’re not bad yourself… ah, no wait what I meant was…” Great now he gets his tongue twisted. He’s ready to bail when Amelia blurts out a genuine laugh.

She makes her way towards the main hall when she turns her shoulders. “I, um. Look forward to our meeting later, Cullen.”

Cullen…. Cullen….  _Cullen!_  Maker she said his name! When did she  _ever_  say his name?! He felt like jumping for joy! She kissed him and said his name! He sounded like a teenager with a crush but he didn’t care. By the Maker, she barely used his name, wanting to keep things formal with all her inner circle. But she said his name! Not Commander! 

Giggling echoed from the entryway to the lower part of the keep, from the door from the Ambassadors room and he could make out that stupid mustache of Dorian’s anywhere. Cullen felt the blush reach his ears when noticed Dorian giving him a thumbs up.

Cullen sighed with aggravation but Amelia walked back in, more flustered than when she left.

“I forgot my papers.” She awkwardly chuckled, bending down again.

Cullen helped her, trying to keep his cool yet he was failing. And she wasn’t any better.

This time Dorian called out they were under the mistletoe again, Cullen furrowing his brows and glaring at the mage who was about to lose that mustache and smirk. He was only saved when Amelia kissed Cullen on the cheek. A feather light touch that stopped Cullen in his tracks.

Amelia bowed, sweetly smiling. “Cullen.” She walked to the war room this time and Cullen stood there, dumbfounded for the second time in a matter of 5 minutes.

Perhaps this tradition could grow on him.


End file.
